Capricorn
by Carinth
Summary: In which the Crown Prince perseveres to learn more about the lives of Camelot's servants, Uther hires a new Overseer and Merlin suffers for it, and a friendship is put on the line. Protective!Arthur, Hurt!Merlin with a side of Helpful!Gwen. Not slash.
1. Stranger

**Title: Capricorn **

**Summary: In which the Crown Prince perseveres to learn more about the lives of Camelot's servants, Uther hires a new Overseer and Merlin suffers for it, and a friendship is put on the line. Protective!Arthur, Whumped!Merlin.**

**Genre: Angsty and bromancy.**

**Authors Note: I tend to not write slash unless it's canon as I see it very hard to keep it IC, and if I ever do write it, it will be very light and most likely unrequited. (I didn't even know that Merthur existed until FF came along into my lovely life.) What you see here is a very deep friendship, but if you want to perceive it as slash, you can! As for my dear Vita Vitae readers: fear not! I'll update ASAP, I've been so busy. We're in my last quarter of school and I want to get straight A's! I had a C in math last quarter, and I'm sending in my application for a private school early this September or October, and I really want in. This fic takes place in Season Two, so Morgana is still good, if not somewhat vain and shallow.**

Within a room that was practically impossible to reach if you were unauthorized in the thick stone walls of Camelot, an ashy blond haired young man, who was perhaps a year the senior of his companion, leaned back in a wooden chair, feet propped up on a table, golden crown being spun around a finger.

"You're going to fall, Arthur." Remarked his—though Arthur would never admit it—best friend, who was a tall, lanky young man with dark bangs that kept falling unceremoniously into his unnaturally bright cobalt eyes.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur retorted, but let his chair fall back and resume it's natural position with all four legs on the ground.

"You always say that when I'm right." Merlin continued. "Prat."

Arthur's lips curved downwards, and to any outsider, it would have seemed as if he were displeased with the serving boy, but to someone like Gwen or anyone else who knew the boys well, it was quite obviously forced: an attempt to hide the amusement and friendship lingering behind a mask of formality that had started to break apart.

"Well, _you," _the young prince pointed at the warlock for emphasis, "can go polish my armor. You bleeding idiot."

Merlin, on the other hand, didn't even try to hide his feeling of friendship towards Arthur, though the latter never really noticed, and to Merlin their friendship was a fact plain as day. A grin graced his features and his stunning cerulean eyes lit up with mischievousness. "Did you know," he deadpanned. "That if you ask nicely, I might actually do it?"

Arthur's eyebrows quirked slightly. "Really?" he asked. "Let's try, shall we? _Mer_lin, you bumbling fool, would you _please _polish my armor?"

The serving boy paused, as if in deep thought. "Nah." Merlin's head tilted to the side slightly. "Didn't work. Guess you'll have to polish your own armor today."

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur threw the nearest projectile, a brass goblet with silver and black designs along the rim, at his servant. Merlin dodged, and his hair—which was as dark as a raven's plume and just as feathery—got mussed up. He took a brief moment to fix it, and laughed, and took off , leaving the door open as he did.

To the two boys, who (though they would deny it) were closer than brothers, it was just a moment of friendship and bonding.

To anyone new to Camelot, that was blasphemous. A servant disobeying his master? Insulting him openly? It was something worthy of severe punishment, something that had to be corrected immediately.

And that was exactly what was going through the mind of a greasy haired, former-assassin, who stood outside the young Prince's door. His muddish eyes were widened ever so slightly in surprise before he mastered his emotions and forced his face devoid of emotion except for the slight twisting of his lips.

Oh, this was a big problem. A very big problem. It would have to be corrected immediately.

**So short. *facepalm* Lol, hopefully the chappies will get longer. Read and Review? Please?**


	2. Virgil

**Title: Capricorn **

**Summary: In which the Crown Prince perseveres to learn more about the lives of Camelot's servants, Uther hires a new Overseer and Merlin suffers for it, and a friendship is put on the line. Protective!Arthur, Whumped!Merlin.**

**Genre: Angsty and bromancy.**

**Authors Note: **

**Yay! People liked this. That makes me soo happy. :) Soo. This story will be ten-ish chapters or so. I've just started Chapter Three, so expect it in a week or so.**

** Disclaimer-I own nothing but our resident villain Virgil, but no one wants him.**

**Chapter Two: Virgil **

Gwen wasn't having the best of days. She'd woken up and dressed, nothing was off at first, but when she looked in the mirror, even the meek, opposite-of-shallow serving girl couldn't help but feel somewhat disgruntled. It was one of those days where she felt bulky and her clothes looked wrinkly to nobody else but her. Her dark brown curls, with shades of lighter honeysuckle brown mixed in, was incredibly frizzy and tied back into a hasty knot.

She kept tripping, that was the worst part. First thing that morning, she had slammed into Morgana—it was embarrassing, even if there were no consequences other than hearing the King's ward refuse to be shaken out of half-hysterics for the first half hour.

Then, Gwen had walked straight into Merlin, who had just come from Arthur's. Who was supposed to be polishing armor but was going to get in trouble again because he was in Gaius' chambers nursing a nasty welt on his forehead because she had fallen into him hard enough to knock them both over and for his head to crack sickeningly against the stone floor. Gwen felt horrible, apologizing in a nonstop spout of words as she helped him to Gaius'. He had finally just told her to 'Shush,' and that everything was fine. He does usually have a good sense of that sort of thing, Gwen thought, but still, the guilt was gnawing away at her.

It was the gnawing guilt that led to her third (and hopefully last) accident of the day. She was holding a basket of laundry and walking down the hall in a hurried manner, thinking about Merlin and about how she might make it up to him even though he wasn't hurt as badly as her over-imaginative mind believed he was. The maidservant had just started to ponder the idea of picking Merlin some lilies—a flower which she was quite fond of—when she collided into something very hard.

Or maybe not hard.

Strong.

Strong as in muscley.

Muscley as in the-kind-of-muscles-you-can-only-get-if-you're-a-knight.

Knight as in Prince Arthur, who had grabbed her arm when she tripped and was now hoisting her to her feet.

Oh. Oh—

"—my gosh!" Gwen fussed, snapped out of her reverie. "I'm sorry!" She paused, mortified, before repeating nervously: "Sorry?"

Something flickered across Ar—Prince Arthur's face, but he nodded to her once she had fully regained balance. "It's fine, Guinevere."

Guinevere. The name always annoyed Gwen, it was too long and clunky, especially because most people emphasized every. Single. Syllable. Like: Gwen-ih-vear. But with Arthur it just rolled off his tongue the way only her father and Elyan and Merlin (whenever he bothered to call her by her given name) did—harmonically, as if it were part of a song.

She smiled at him, heart fluttering an odd pattern in her chest and gave a half curtsy, gathering up the laundry that had half-spilled from the basket.

"I'll-I'll…see you, um, later, then?" She sputtered.

The blond man nodded and Gwen nearly swooned at the sight of his half smile. But she didn't. Because serving girls don't swoon over prince's unless they want their heart broken, before turning to walk away.

"Wait!" She said it before she could process the words coming out of her mouth. "Merlin had a run in with the floor a little while ago, courtesy of me. He had to go see Gaius, so he might be a little late." She felt a swell of pride in her heart at the well concealed concern on Arthur's face. The man that Gwen had known as rude and mean and inconsiderate had changed into someone who would be a great friend to the boy she cared about like a little brother*, despite status. "Don't go too hard on him, please?"

He nodded again, more curtly this time. "Thank you, Gwen. I won't."

One hand over her rapidly beating heart, Gwen entered Morgana's rooms, only to find the young ward already dressed in her afternoon clothing. The emerald-eyed woman whirled around to face Gwen right away, silky black locks bouncing. Ruby lips curved into a stunning smile and Morgana said: "So, word of mouth is that Arthur _favors—_" the young woman waggled her eyebrows. "you." She bumped shoulders with her maid and reclined. "Tell me everything."

With a quiet laugh, Gwen reflected. She had good friends. A teensy crush on Arthur, who didn't hate her, at least, and Morgana would be there for her no matter what, with a mischievous smile, the young maid proceeded to tell her wealthier counterpart everything she knew about the castle and all the freshest gossip. Morgana introduced Gwen to a delectable new dish, strawberries dipped into some sweet brown substance called _choclat,_which was the color of Gwen's hair and most assuredly one of her new favorite foods.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.

"Ouch, Gaius!" Merlin cried indignantly. "I'm fine. It's just a bump."

"Head injuries," the physician looked severe. "Can be quite serious. Just let me take a look."

"No, Gaius." He admonished, pulling free gently. "I have to go."

Gaius gave a somewhat offended huff. "I'm sure Gwen can talk to Arthur."

"Bye, Gaius." Merlin said, slipping out the door, relieved. The elderly healer meant well, but could sometimes be a tad overbearing, not unlike Arthur.

Half an hour later, armor clattering in his arms, Merlin lost his footing. He caught himself, thankfully, but now that he could see where he was going (some of the armor had fallen from his grasp), he found him looking into the face of a stranger.

The man towered over Merlin by at least a foot, making him seven feet or taller, with brownish, leathery skin, and eyes the same color as his hair, which was limp and greasy and streaked with dirt.

"Sorry," Merlin said, fidgeting. His hands would have been fiddling with his neckerchief if they weren't otherwise occupied.

The man stayed silent.

He shifted the armor in his arms and held out a hand to the stranger. "I'm Merlin."

Merlin twitched as the man glanced distastefully down at his hand before saying at last: "Yes, you are Prince Arthur's servant."

"Yeah—" he started.

"My name," the man continued. "Is Virgil. Though…it would do you well not to address me as so." Virgil started to walk away, before turning back briefly, eyes narrowing like a snake's. "And royalty…" he said with another disdainful sniff. "Do not shake hands with those of such low rank as you."

Nursing a bit of hurt pride, Merlin put the polished metal in the armory and went to the kitchens. Helena, the stout cook, had been absolutely delighted to see him, and fetched him Arthur's dinner right away.

"Come back soon, boy." She had hugged him. "We haven't talked properly in ages."

Merlin had given her a promise that he would, but he couldn't help but think back to Virgil, and asked Arthur about it that night before he left for the night.

"Virgil?" Arthur seemed surprised. "Have you met him already? He's the new Overseer."

"What happened to Katherine?" Merlin said curiously. Katherine had been forty four, with light blond hair that had just started to grey at the roots and curious silver eyes, and had been the previous overseer.

"My father asked her if she would deport into the service of one of his cousin's. Women don't have enough backbone…"

"Clearly you haven't met Morgana." Merlin smirked, and Arthur gave him a smile of agreement.

"Except for Morgana, maybe. But Lady Katherine was getting too lenient. The servants—for example, you—have started slacking."

"Hmm." Merlin said quietly, before adding softly. "I just don't…trust him."

Arthur gave him an irritated glance. "Well, too bad it's not your choice, then." He snapped. "Keep your head out of matters that don't concern you."

A long moment of silence slowly fell, like dust, and Arthur finally said resignedly. "You're dismissed, Merlin." And then he pretended that he didn't see the look of bewildered hurt of his friend's face.

**I'm extremely displeased with the way I portrayed Gwen, here, so that's definitely up for change. She is not a swooning damsel in distress (well, usually.). She's diligent and hardworking and sweet and genuine. Also, I felt like the ending was rushed and Arthur's reaction WAY too sudden. On a positive note: we've met our villain formally, there was an angsty ending, and this chapter had Arwen! Yay…;)**

***-I think that after Gwen's initial crush on Merlin, her feelings to him fade into a more sibling/family like adoration. But then again…who doesn't adore Merlin? **

**Constructive Criticism makes me a better writer. And happy. Actually, it makes me more happy than a better author…**


	3. Mishaps

Chapter Three:

**AN: Yeah…I've been gone a while, haven't I? I'm really sorry. Rewatching all the seasons of Supernatural, going on vacation, and the flu have kept me busy. Plus, writers block, and you know…stuff…by the way: 47 story alerts. Guys, you're killing me. My heart literally skipped a beat. :) Kay guys…so, I deleted Vita Vitae because I realized that I really wasn't going anywhere. Just pointlessly whumping Merlin. :/ As for this story, I realized that it might not be full on whump, but hopefully really close to that. I also changed my U/N to Nevermore15 because UnderTheWeepingWillow was just too…clunky.**

**_M-E-R-L-I-N_  
**

_It's gonna rain some days, I know_

_And things are gonna hurt sometimes, that's for sure._

_But I won't get turned around, 'cuz I keep moving on. ~3 Doors Down, Race for the Sun_

Camelot's golden haired prince hadn't meant too. He really hadn't meant to snap like that.

But stress, stemming from his father most likely, made him taught with righteous anger and frustration, which he released upon Merlin, who had done nothing more than act like a bit of a nitwit.

Which, he reflected stormily as he sat in his chair with a now-cold dinner, was a very bad thing. He had not yet had the time to formally greet Camelot's newest overseer, but Arthur truly did value Merlin's opinion. There was no doubt now that when Arthur woke that morning to breakfast with his father, Morgana, and Virgil (who was their guest of honor,) he would not like the man, because Merlin didn't, and Arthur trusted Merlin to the point of blind faith.

When he finished dining, he beckoned a maid with a loose grasp on his goblet that was the result of one too many cups of wine, and collapsed into bed fully clothed. He shouldn't feel guilty that Merlin—his _servant_—had stuck his nose into things that didn't really concern him (except, they really did concern Merlin. Seeing as Virgil was going to be the Overseer. And Merlin didn't like the man and—oh no that was not going to end well.) Maybe Merlin would choose to lay low around Virgil. Despite his insubordinate nature and his rashness _and _his clumsiness, Merlin did have a (very, very faint) sense of self preservation, and Arthur hoped that until he could concoct some scheme with Morgana to get the man away from both his servant and Camelot, that Merlin would just keep his head down.

Arthur shouldn't have been so concerned about Merlin. Aside from the difference in rank, Camelot had been tranquil and calm for the past month or so. There was absolutely no chance that things could go wrong, especially in the castle itself.

…but still, a little caution wouldn't hurt anybody, would it?

**M-E-R-L-I-N-C-A-M-E-L-O-T-A-R-T-H-U-R**

Merlin didn't stay up almost all night practicing magic often. He only did it when he was harboring hurt feelings. Which, granted, was far more common than he would like to admit.

A simple "_Forbaerne", _and the pale yellow flames sputtered into existence on the young warlock's palm. "_Beorhtan_…" The flames grew brighter, and swelled to the size of his pillow (which he wanted to keep the flames away from) . The tendrils of fire occasionally would brush his cheek tauntingly, which brought a tingling sensation that made Merlin smile in amusement. His magic seemed almost sentient when he used it, making him feel safe and warm and protected and at home. Sometimes it just bubbled in his veins, especially in times of emotional duress. It made his heart race and his fingers tingle when he was overjoyed, snarled aggressively like one of Arthur's bloodhounds when he was hurt, before writhing and twisting into itself at Merlin's _No! I can't hurt Arthur, _because his magic understood and agreed and felt the young warlock's brief moments of self loathing whenever he wanted to hurt Arthur.

"_Acólian" _Merlin tried, leaning over his desk. One hand nurturing the blue-tipped fire, the other resting on a gold-leafed page of his spell book, index finger resting on the spell for "grow icy, freeze". The fire began to still, and at the base, silvery ice had gather, and started to branch. The warlock grinned goofily as the spell began to work, though he turned his head in puzzlement when the spell only worked halfway. The ice stopped spreading near the tip of the flames, but the fire flickered out anyways, because anyone vaguely reasonable knows that fire and ice cannot possibly peacefully coexist, and in this case, there was more ice than fire.

Maybe he should talk to Morgana about her magic…so much could go wrong with her not knowing. He could help her…but then again, chances were equally high that she would turn against him, call him a liar…continue to live in denial about her magic and reveal his to Uther…he yawned heavily, and his eyelids flickered drowsily. It was still only about two in the morning…he could probably steal a few hours sleep.

And that night, he dreamt of Camelot in flames and Freya rising out of the depths of Avalon and bodies strewn in a courtyard that was foreign and familiar at the same time. In the distance dragons red and white clashed, and Morgana—dressed in black, held a white beam of energy held in her hands, until she spread her lace-clad arms and he saw a raven instead. It cawed, took flight, and Merlin woke up with a muffled yell. He went back to sleep, shuddering, but the next morning, when he woke, he couldn't remember dreaming of anything at all.

**M-E-R-L-I-N-C-A-M-E-L-O-T-A-R-T-H-U-R**

Virgil was, Morgana haughtily observed as they breakfasted, a rather dismal man. Judging by Arthur's stiff nature around the man, and Merlin's more obvious distaste (well, more obvious in his facial expression. Even Merlin wouldn't risk the wrath of royalty—other than Arthur—by openly disrespecting them), they thought so as well. He reminded her of Cenred, whom Morgana had met once, back when their countries were under truce.

Both men seemed ridiculously fond of leather, usually polished to the point of it being so shiny that, when the sun reflecting off it, you could hardly stand to look at it. While fit, their hair was dark brown and clumped together and stood out in contrast to their otherwise meticulously clean appearance.

One thing that struck Morgana as particularly odd about the man was that he carried weapons. Alright, perhaps that in itself was not particularly unusual, but his choice of weapons. The dagger in his boot or the sword strapped to his back was a common occurrence, among wealthier and more common folk alike. It was the whip that was coiled at his hip, and the iron knuckle and fingernails he wore that were unusual.

Still, she had yet to decide whether she liked him or not after ten minutes of picking at her breakfast and pondering, but when Merlin stumbled as he was refilling Virgil's glass, and some cider sploshed around the goblet, that Morgana decided that the man was absolutely despicable. As Merlin muttered a few hasty apologies (sarcastically) and reached to clean it up, Virgil grabbed his wrist with speed and strength that hardly seemed human. Merlin stepped backwards, pulling at his hand slightly, gritting his teeth together and making a pained noise. It wasn't even very loud, and Uther and Arthur were still chatting away merrily, but because of the special bond between the two (it was one of those rare, beautiful things that Morgana marveled at everyday), Arthur glanced at Merlin, concerned, and Morgana had to kick Arthur in the shins to stop him from surging out of his chair and tackling Uther's newest employee.

As much as she would have liked to slap Virgil herself (or possibly kick him in a place a _lot _lower than his face) , Morgana decided to be diplomatic about it and wait for a good moment to intercept.

Seeming to notice that everyone's eyes were on him, the overseer gave Merlin a dark glance and retracted his hand, making sure to dig his fingernails in tightly before relaxing his grip. "Clean it up." The man said dismissively, as Merlin cradled his sore wrist.

"It's alright…" Morgana cut Virgil off. "Why don't you see if Gaius needs any help, Merlin? I heard that there's a cold being passed around the Lower Town, he's bound to need your assistance. I'm sure we can manage, that is," she glanced at Uther meaningfully. "If it's alright with you, my lord."

"You're right, Morgana." Uther nodded. "Gaius could do with a hand. You're dismissed, Mervin."

'Thank you,' Merlin mouthed to Morgana over Uther's head as he walked away, before muttering under his breath: "It's Mer_lin._"

Arthur, obviously having overheard, rolled his eyes, smiling lightly. Morgana and Arthur glanced each other, and grew somber, because for all their differences, they both cared deeply for Merlin, and neither of them would stand to see a finger laid on him.

**I realized I've really been neglecting my reviewers, so here are all my responses to you guys. (Looove you all, by the way. Platonically. Otherwise it would be weird.) **

**Writergirl (Ch.1): Awww…thanks!**

**Kitty O (Ch. 1): Agreed. It does make for a fun story though, and the bromance is wonderful.**

**sarajm (Ch. 1): Thanks. I hope my writing continues to be great. Or else I'll feel like a failure. :'(**

**Trouble in the Night: Sorry for taking so long with Chapter Three! **

**MagicGirl: Really? *blushes* Awww, you're so nice! *hugs***

**Lancelot'sGirl112: Yes. Bromance indeed. *smirk***

**readernurse: You rock so much, you totally boosted my confidence about that chapter.**

**Darelni: I feel like such a loser for taking so long. :/**

**BabyGlover: I have no plans of abandoning this. :)**

**KittyAbz: Thanks for making me laugh. That's a pretty apt description of Merlin. :P**

**ruby890: My writing is pretty flawed. (On the other hand, I'm a perfectionist, so…) Thanks! **

**You're guys's reviewing makes me teary with joy.**


	4. Disguise

**Ah…it's been a while. And you guys left me twelve reviews. _Twelve reviews. _For one chapter. God, I love you guys. Unfortunately, I have to (shamefully) admit that this chapter is VERY short and a filler, most of it is the *very* important AN at the end. But it's the set-up for the rest of the story. **

**You guys rock, though. I mean, seriously. TWELVE REVIEWS! I lub you all.**

After breakfast, Morgana angrily paced from wall to wall in her chambers, spinning on her heel to turn her icy gaze on Arthur when he approached her. "_How dare he?" _She seethed quietly. "He has no right!"

Her skirts whirled as she turned to pace again. After a moment, though, she stopped. There was no flushed rage on Arthur's face, like she had expected, no righteous anger—like there should have been. He didn't speak out in agreement, as she had hoped, either.

In fact, as Morgana gaped at him in disbelief, she could have sworn that his expression was…chastising.

"He has every right, Morgana." Arthur corrected, and the King's ward gave a strangled cry of "_What!"_

"He's nobility. Virgil is used to servants who give in to his every whim, and he is the Overseer. It's his job to make sure that all servants, including Merlin, do their jobs properly. It's what we're paying him for."

The look Morgana gave him just then, though, made Arthur want to take back his words and disappear. Her moss green eyes glowed with rage, belying her slack-jawed, surprised expression. And then:

"You don't care at all, do you?" She said quietly, shaking her head slightly.

"Of course I care! I just don't think Virgil is at fault here." Arthur took her wrists into his calloused hands, trying to get her to see sense, but she just pushed him away.

"You're right." Morgana said, and Arthur gave her a confused look. "You care, but not about Merlin. I thought you were his friend, but I was wrong. You don't care about him _at all!_"

"Morgana!" Arthur said exasperatedly, but the Seer glared at him angrily, jaw set.

"Don't speak to me," She said firmly, closing the door in his face, "and get out of my room."

**CAMELOT-KILGARRAH-CAPRICORN**

The golden haired prince of Camelot sighed as he recalled his encounter with Morgana not an hour ago. "Merlin?" He asked as he carefully laced up his left boot, meticulously brushing off any dust.

Merlin's head popped up from behind a chair, and he triumphantly held up Arthur's dress shirt. "I found it!" The cheeky manservant declared. "And I thought I was messy." There was a happy grin plastered on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a skeptical expression as Merlin suspiciously eyed his master's garb.

"Isn't that a bit plain?" He asked in a voice that clearly said: _Arthur, what are you up too?_

"Ah," Arthur agreed. "But that's not really any of your business, is it?"

"Come on," the manservant disagreed. "Tell me, I want to know."

"Sorry, Merlin. You're dismissed." The prince grinned. "It's top secret." Arthur was too busy carefully examining his manservant's hand to formulate a witty retort. Merlin's wrist had been bandaged, and Arthur could see five thin lines of blood through the gauze.

He didn't blame Morgana for being mad.

"That's not fair, Arthur." Merlin said, unable to contain his amusement as he left. He poked his head back into the room, a moment after he exited. "I'm going to find out, you know." He pulled his head free just in time to dodge the pillow that Arthur aimed at him.

Once he was sure that his manservant was gone, Arthur schooled his childish grin into a properly solemn expression, before putting on a mottled green and gray cloak to cover up his worn cotton clothing.

He locked his door, and reached into one of his drawers; pulling out two tonics that he had filched from Gaius's chambers.

He ran the first tonic, a murky brown liquid, through his blond hair.

The second was a brilliant purple, and went in his eyes. This took Arthur a little longer because, though he'd later deny it, he kept flinching every time he tried to apply it.

A good hour later, it was noon, and Arthur glanced into his mirror. The man who stood there looked completely different. Arthur Pendragon did not have dark brown hair or liquid green eyes, he didn't dress in peasant's clothing or hide who he was from anyone.

Smiling slightly, Arthur pulled the cowl of his forest-colored cloak up in order to conceal his face.

No one but those closest to the Crown Prince would recognize him now.

His disguise was complete.

***Sighs* I _love _Sneaky!Arthur. Not as much as Hurt!Merlin or Possesive/Protective!Arthur, granted. But a lot.**

**IMPORTANT AN: I'm going to include my review responses for Ch.2 in the next chapter, but I have a question to ask you guys. I have two potential stories in the works after this, as this should only be about five or six more chapters.**

**The first is a 'Watching the Show' story, and doesn't have a title yet. The reveal does not go over well, and Merlin is locked in the dungeons, awaiting his trial, and sure of a sentence of death. The Druids, of course, are very distressed at the thought of Merlin being executed or banished, and so they take matters into their own hands. Arthur, the knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana are forced to watch Merlin's life as it progresses from when he first arrives in Camelot to the end of Season Four. (Merlin revealed his magic about a week after the finale.) Lots of angst, h/c, and bromance. **

**The second is called 'A Lesson in Humility' and is a mild AU. Instead of Merlin coming to Camelot, Uther and Morgana think that Arthur has become too high and mighty. Enlisting the help of Gaius, they send Arthur to spend six months with his grand-niece Hunith in Ealdor. At first, Arthur and Hunith's son, Merlin, clash, but as Arthur learns more about the daily hardships that peasants and Merlin in particular go through, the two boys start to become friends. Hurt/comfort, angst, and bromance, as always.**

**Which one would you like to see more/first?**


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